


Belly Full of Regret

by GrangeLady



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, I'm Sorry, Mentions of possible abortion, Not A Fix-It, Past Incest, Sam Wilson is a Gift, Twins, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-08
Updated: 2015-06-08
Packaged: 2018-04-03 11:08:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4098799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GrangeLady/pseuds/GrangeLady
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two months after Ultron's defeat, Wanda can't hide it any more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Belly Full of Regret

Pietro has been in the ground for seven weeks when she wakes to the knowledge that there are two little boys in her womb. She lies still for minutes in the dark, searching her body for signs of motion that she isn't sure would even be there yet. The silence accuses her. Before it can start to ache her ears, she turns over to her side and then again, sits up to flick the light on. The soft sound of her feet entering her slippers (Natasha had recommended them, as the base could get cold on nighttime wanders) didn't break the silence at all.

Wanda takes herself to the gym, still in the baggy top and soft pants she sleeps in, and finds Sam on a treadmill. He's got a water bottle by the side of the machine but the stars on his pants hint that he hadn't really planned a pre-dawn workout either. She nods to him and walks past, to the weights... where she hesitates. 

She had been trying to ignore her body's signals and had been training with the others, trying to get out of her head with the sweat and the heat she could barely feel now. But this alarm, the new knowledge that shouted 'boys!' until she woke, makes her wonder if weightlifting could hurt them. Makes her wonder if that would be a bad thing. She's leaning on a frame of some bulky machine when she realises that the silence is back. 

The hand on her shoulder doesn't startle her, which is a worry in itself. "You okay, Wanda?" 

It's a stupid question, and he knows it, so she doesn't call him on it before shaking her head. Pushing back onto her feet and turning to face him, she sees his eyes drop to the arm she wrapped around her stomach without noticing. 

The understanding's like a brick to the chest. "Maybe the weights aren't a good idea." It's his smile that cracks her open. 

She tries to grin around the tears that are finally wrecking her sight. "Yeah." She lets him steer her back to the tiny kitchen they all share, lets him push a hot mug into her hands once she's seated at the table, lets him question her. 

"How long have you known?", "Are you hurting, physically?", and "Any ideas how far along?" all get honest answers, but she can't meet his eyes when he asks about the father. She glues her gaze to the milky brown of her untouched drink and lets him draw his own conclusions. She knows he'll think the worst - a tryst with some Hydra agent, an arrangement with a faceless Nazi who could show her a good time - but she can't tell him. 

It's childish, but the second he asks she feels it as a secret, the last thing that was just hers and Pietro's. Even if she can't see it through, she can have it for a while. The window at the top of the kitchen wall is showing the first glimmer of sunrise and she looks up at Sam, all pyjamas and hot chocolate, and wonders if they'll be okay.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this because I heard the title in a Paul F Tompkins sketch and it sparked something in me.


End file.
